Wednesday, August 25, 2010

i heart in August


1. Soap. In cupcake form. Or cupcakes in soap form. In any case, they're handmade in Finland using natural ingredients, they look amazing and they smell absolutely edible. Coming to a shop near you in the near future, but soon you can get your hands on them here.

2. Ahne '10 Art Festival. The exhibition is in Suvilahti, and showcases work of art students from Aalto University, among others. My personal favorite was the bra display. Also, it's free of charge. Bonus.

3. Naps. The good people of Juhlaviikot and Helsingin Sanomat are letting you nap at the Central Railway Station and Ruttopuisto Park for a couple of days; they provide the beds and blankets, and they'll even watch your stuff while you get some midday shuteye.


4. Rain. Finally. It's seriously pleasant after this hot as balls summer. Although that Apocalyptic Storm (pretty sure i saw some horsemen rolling around in the sky too) a couple of weeks ago was piss-my-pants kinda scary.

5. My new bike. A shiny black Jopo, named Nakkimankeli 'freebird' Makkonen (naming help was had from some brilliant minds - thanks for that), that rides like a dream. And on the same note: I hope you're enjoying my rickety, rusty, stolen one with the flat tyre, you bicycle-thieving nut sack.

6. Angela Carter. I went to the library the other day and borrowed The Bloody Chamber, where she refashions and reworks classic fairy tales in a brilliant way. i can't believe i've never read any of her stuff before. At times it's like a female Gaiman counterpart. Captivating.

7. Cookies. Bought Vegan Cookies Take Over Your Cookie Jar from NY, and baked a batch of Chocolate Fudgy Oatmeal Cookies, which were the shit.

8. Midlake. And the fact that they're coming back to Finland in November.

9. iBeer iPhone app. Turns your iphone into a pint of beer for 0.79e. This enables you to pretend you're tipping back the brews, with the beer sloshing and frothing around your phone/pint. I don't see how this could be satisfying; i do see how you'd look like an absolute twat drinking your phone at a bar, tho. What the hell is it doing on my list, then? see #10 below.

10. Sober September. That's right; it's as good a month as any to grab yourself by the neck and give yourself a good, solid, smarting slap of sobriety. The reason why it's on my list of things to love now is because it's still August. Cheers.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Flow Festival 2010: Personal Highlights


1. Mr Husa's Polaroid Camera. I've wanted one of these for ages. Forget digital cameras and iPhones; this beauty, as unpractical in size as it is cool in terms of pics, is the only real media for festival documentation.

2. The XX. They had me at Intro. There was running, jumping fences and a lot singing and hugging caused by this gig. Romy Madley Croft, you rock my world.

3. Nakki Tehtaanmyymälä. Vegelihikset. Who ever thought someone would start making those? Best. Shit. Ever. 

4. Jallu shots at the bar. See #8 for elaboration.

5. Bajamajat. Especially the Mens'. Very little queueing on that side. Or in general, for that matter.

6. Interviewing people about their Flow-related Facebook status updates, which included (but were hardly limited to) 'is going with the Flow', 'varrella virran', 'is overflowing', 'antaa virran viedä', 'has an afterflow', 'is WOLF', etc.) Such clever wordplay.

7. Running into friends. And having celebratory, happy chance encounter drinks with each of them.

8. Managing to fish 147,5 euros worth of anniskelualue receipts out of my wallet on Monday morning. Which is weird, cause i remember telling most bartenders i don't need the receipts.

9. Surfer Blood. I caught a glimpse of them live at Coney Island some weeks ago, but missed most of the gig. This entirely made up for it. 

10. Biking home. By Sunday night i was actually doubting whether i could do it. Nevertheless, both the bike and owner found themselves at home on Monday morning, aching and semi-dead, but quite pleased with the weekend. In a state of post-festival afterflow, even. 

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Love in a Fake Empire: The National Live

I grasp the little piece of paper in my sweaty hand like it's a lifeline. I'm so scared i'll drop it, accidentally tear it up, or naively show it to someone who'll snatch it from me and run for their life, giggling as they disappear into the sunset. I put my hand in my bag, still clasping the little rectangle, just in case. The text on it says 'The Bowery Presents: The National. Rain or Shine'. I remember it by heart, that's how geekily excited i feel about this gig. Right now it's shining. I'm hot, and slightly worried my ticket will start to fall apart in my eager, sweaty hands. The text beneath that says 'Celebrate Brooklyn', which is also written on the banner we're about to pass under. I glance at the line behind me; it zigzags so far back into Prospect Park i can't see the end. I wonder if all the people behind me are also having their gig entrance threatened by the damage their excited, sweaty palms are inflicting on their tickets. Probably. I take mine out to look at it again, just to make sure this is actually happening.



Because it almost didn't. Some time in May, when the thought of coming to NYC was just an idea i was flirting with, i checked online for any good shows coming up, and saw The National were playing Brooklyn at the end of July. If this New York thing worked out, this is number one on my list of things to do, i promised myself. A few weeks later, i'd booked my flight and checked back for gig tickets. The show was sold out. Shitballs, i thought to myself, undeterred. I'll see that band if it's the last thing i do. 


Several weeks of serious Craigslist-stalking, dozens of emails and i'm-a-foreign-kid-in-NY-for-a-month-and-need-to-see-this-band-pleas later, we trot up to North Harlem late one night to exchange a wad of cash for a small white envelope (addressed to 'Nina, from Finland) with a very tall dude in a grey shirt. We nod, turn around and head in opposite directions. i tear open the envelope. It contains two tickets. I'm so happy i want to burst into a Gene Kelly's Singing in the Rain-esque rendition of 'i'm on a bloooodbuzzzzzz, yes i aaaam' like an idiot on a random street corner in Harlem in the middle of the night. I manage to restrain myself.



So here we are now. We enter the park, find ourselves a spot to sit. Everyone around us is having a picnic, laughing and talking in the most laid-back of manners. I look around and have half a mind to inquire how they're being so blasé about this, lounging on their blankets, scooping hummus with their pita chips; this is no time for casual eating, this is time for some serious, focused anticipation! I shake my head and content myself with taking long, ruminating drags of my last cigarette.

Some hours (and a Beach House gig which i might write about some other time) later the sun has set and the muggy heat of day is finally giving way to a balmy evening and a deep blue sky. The park trees have been strung with fairylights that twinkle in the canopy above the expectant crowd. Gigantic dragonflies buzz past and the breeze carries the pungent smell of marijuana our way. The blue of the sky takes on a deeper hue as people sip on their beers and the stage lights up. Suddenly, i see people standing up, the crowd shifts, an eager wave of applause ripples through the audience, gathering strength. I shoot up, standing on tiptoe, and catch a glimpse of Matt as he drifts on to stage, flanked with his band mates, and palms the mic. 


Runaway

starts off slow, even melancholy. Matt's voice is soft, almost brooding. The green lights illuminating the band fade, replaced by lights that look like candles placed around the stage. The audience is silent. There's something really still about the moment. I notice all the hairs on my arms are standing on end. It's like voluntary suspension of disbelief. Am i here? Is this The National? Then the song is over, and Matt says a quiet 'thank you'. Before the audience can react, they burst right into 

Mistaken For Strangers

Which is faster than the album version; all loud drums and growing sound with Matt discarding softness for an almost aggressive take on the lyrics. "Showered and blue-blazing" pummels the audience, and then amidst applause we're back from The Boxer, on to High Violet and 

Anyone's Ghost

and the stage is bathed in a purple light; violins, trombones and trumpets. The music is huge, moving, and the sound is stellar compared to Beach House gig earlier. The song finishes and Matt addresses the crowd: "This next song is about Ohio, where we're from. But even though the song is about Ohio, we actually feel more at home here in Brooklyn." Brooklynites in a Brooklyn park burst into applause for their honorary neighborhood band.

Bloodbuzz Ohio

Draws an ecstatic scream from the audience within the first drum beats. Although a sea of people separates me from the stage, i see Matt, dressed in black head to toe, leaning into the mic. There's something about this guy, he has this easy nonchalance that gives him incredible charisma, independent of the enraptured throng of listeners shouting his name. The lights shift and Matt's silhouette is thrown on the back wall of the stage; the shadow of the man with the mic enormous and flickering. The darkening night and vibrating music has drawn bats from their perches, and these tiny shadows crisscross and flit in the air, likewise silhouetted against the lights. 

Matt dedicates the next song to Luke Hewitt, "who i've stolen some lyrics from". And slowly they launch into

Baby We'll Be Fine

, accompanied from the start by violins. When Matt utters 'baby we'll be fine', i sincerely believe him. I wanna spill Jack and Coke down his collar. This is as good as it gets, i think to myself. I find i'm mistaken, when they roll into the next song.

Slow Show 

is better. it makes me cry, i'll be honest. This is the song i've always wanted to see performed live. It's like a love letter. It's haunting. It's a fine example of Matt's talent for penning ingenious lyrics. I feel the drumbeat somewhere in my ribcage as "you know i dreamed about you twenty-nine years before i saw you" draws applause from the enthralled audience. 

Squalor Victoria

starts with an extended intro and sees Matt's raspy scream of 'Squalor Victoria' echo across the park. The audience goes wild. To counter the roaring, the band softens for 

Afraid of Everyone

I can't even count how many people are on stage at this point. It's all strings, percussions, and in the midst of everything Matt is pacing the stage like a man possessed, stopping to bellow forlornly into the mic. His baritone voice, criticized for its limited range and monotony, sounds beautiful.

Little Faith


The lit ends of blunts make little red pinpricks in the darkness, which has settled on the park like a mantle. The drums of Little Faith vibrate in the air, which hangs thick. It's as if the stage and all people are encased in a park-sized bubble, a little pocket of darkness removed from the rest of the world.


Available


The song is a rougher, edgier version, with loud blaring guitars matching Matt howling "how can you blame yourself when i did everything i wanted to" like a man carrying some serious emotional baggage. 

The Cardinal Song


from Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers is an interesting choice for the set list. It's almost disconcerting how mellow and ballad-like it is after the raw screaming of 'Available'. 

Conversation 16


is one of the best songs from High Violet, and the intensity between the band and the audience reaches a fever pitch; the stage is like a beacon of light in the balmy night with thousands of dancing, swaying, jumping shapes in the darkness before it. The song finishes and the band rolls right into the jovial rhythm of 

Apartment Story


"This is probably the first show we could walk to", Matt remarks. "Instead of walking we should have arrived in one of those 400 feet long hummer limos", Aaron interjects, drawing laughs from the crowd. 

The Geese of Beverly Road



Abel

The stage is red and the lights are blinding. "My mind's not right", Matt screams at the audience, who scream at him like theirs aren't either. I lose sight of the stage, which is obscured by the jumping crowd. The song comes to an end and the stage fades to black. They then launch into

Daughters of the Soho Riots

the mellowness of which makes the audience reciprocate with drawing out lighters and swaying like this was Woodstock in '69. 

England

sounds crisper live, with all instruments audible; the violin especially sounds beautiful. Matt says "i think i might ride my bike home tonight. Straight to the Vale of Cashmere." I can't believe it; i want to live here, where seeing the boys from The National ride their bikes home after an amazing gig is nothing out of the ordinary. 

Fake Empire

is what everyone's been waiting for. It's amazing seeing this live; it starts so small, with Matt singing, almost gingerly, and Bryce on the piano. Then in come backing vocals, the drums, clapping; musician after another emerges from the shadows of the stage and picks up their instrument...the song grows, just kinda lifts off. The audience counters it with a wall of sound, the stage lights are blinding, the song comes to an end with a resounding horn fanfare. The musicians take a quick bow in front of the exhilarated audience and disappear off stage. 


The clapping, shouting and whistling sees no end. They're not gone for long.

Sorrow


has the stage flooded in purple light. Matt leans into the mic, grasping it with both hands. The song is beautiful, its melancholy mood at home in the dark park at the end of the gig.

Secret Meeting


Mr. November


As the third song in the encore, they finally play Mr. November. The stage alternates between pink and white lighting, strobe lights flash as Matt screams "I won't fuck us over". It's a haggard scream, the words to which are occasionally lost, but that's okay, cause everyone knows them. 

Terrible Love


They play the first song from the new album last. "This is our final song. Thank you so much". The song finishes, the stage fades into darkness. And then, as subtly as it manifested, the bubble pops; the willful suspension of disbelief dissolves and the real world starts happening again. People look around, start shifting, moving towards the gates. Was i just here? Did this just happen? Yes i was and yes it did. And it was epic. 



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